


A Magizoologist and A Professor Walk Into A Bar

by Siddal



Series: Dear Newt [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: And then more angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 15:34:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16684303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siddal/pseuds/Siddal
Summary: Newt and Albus reunite and things are wonderful until they're not.Takes place before Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them but after my fic You Are Not My Bosie.





	A Magizoologist and A Professor Walk Into A Bar

The Leaky Cauldron

Newt is sitting at the bar, drawing swirls on the condensation on his half empty pint glass, when the door to the pub swung open. He looks up and in comes a familiar face.

Albus Dumbledore is scanning the space for an empty seat while Newt’s internal debate on whether to hide or call the professor’s attention, manifests itself in his swiveling around to look for a hiding spot. At the same time his shyly raising hand seems unsure on whether to call for the professor or for the bill.

His flailing betrays him in the end when the professor turns towards him, with a confused frown. Newt is frozen under the gaze until he slowly lowers his hand and offers the man a meek smile.

Albus walks towards him and Newt greets his with a mild “Professor.”

“Newt?” says Albus with a smile of surprise and disbelief.

Newt nods and says “Professor Dumbledore. It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too! I barely recognized you.” Says Albus with a more enthusiastic tone.

“Let me get you a pint.” Newt offers along with the free seat beside him.

“Thank you.”

Albus spends a good moment looking his former student over in the time it takes for his drink to arrive. Newt spends this time averting his eyes.

Albus’ pint lands in front of him and he takes a sip before saying into his glass “I thought you’d left us. After the war…”

Newt rocks and curls up in his seat slightly before admitting “I was away for a while. Came back for a bit but then I had to go away again.” In a brief moment of delighted, Newt faces his former professor with a smile to say “I secured a commission, you see.” Only to tamp down his own excitement a moment later.

Albus smiles and enables him his joy with a question “For what?”

Newt smiles back, his shyness slowly melting away.

“I’m writing a book about magical creatures. Not to get rid of them though…” He rushes to clarify.

“Of course not.” Albus’ smile widens with the treat of a chuckle.

“It’s to teach people that not all of them are dangerous. And that even the most lethal can be handled with, not violence, but some care and respect.”

Albus’ smile softens with endearment as Newt reveals his old passions.

“Seems like that’s right up your alley. Requires a great deal of field work too, I imagine.”

“Yes.”

Albus puts a hand on Newt’s shoulder, squeezing it affectionately and says “I’m glad. After everything, I couldn’t help but worry. I always knew you were a proficient and strong wizard, but then the war came…Felt like everyone would have a hard time landing on their feet. Yet here you are. Resilient as ever.”

A slight blush blooms on Newt’s cheeks as he pushes on with the conversation.

“And you, professor? How are you?”

“Good. Well, there’s still Hogwarts. Same old, same old.”

Albus updates Newt on the goings-on at the school; the old and new habits of the teaching staff, any remaining students from Newt’s time there (he doesn’t really recall any of them), and of course the results of the last Quidditch season.

“So, when do I get to read this book of yours?” Albus turns the conversation back to Newt.

“It’s a work in progress. Still have a few stops to go.”

“You’re leaving again?” Albus’ incessant smile is marred by disappointment slightly.

“Yes.” Newt confirms, almost apologetically.

“I see. What about your family?” asks Albus.

“We haven’t had much contact recently. They don’t exactly approve of my choice in career.”

Newt slouches slightly as he admits this.

“I see. Theseus?”

“Doing pretty well for himself, or so I hear.” Newt laughs humorlessly.

“Right. Have you got anyone…watching your back on these adventures of yours?” Albus probes further.

“Some local guides, sometimes. Usually, I’m on my own.”

“Is that…safe?”

“So far.”

The two men share a meaningful look for what feels like an eternity. A whole different conversation exchanged between their eyes.

“Professor…” Newt starts.

“Albus. Call me Albus. Or Al or whatever.” Albus insists, strangely developing a shyness of his own.

“You don’t look like an Al.” Newt chuckles nervously. “Albus…Would you mind taking a look at some of my notes?”

Albus looks at him for another moment before he asks, almost breathlessly “Where are your notes, Newt?”

“In my room.” Newt pushes through with some hesitation.

“Newt…” Albus starts with a warning tone.

“I’m sorry!” The younger man turns away. “I shouldn’t have…I’ll just…I’ll go…”

Newt makes to stand but Albus takes him by the arm.

“Newt.” Albus tries to calm him down and Newt spares him a look before pulling away.

“…get them. I’ll go get them.” Newt says before rushing up the stairs to the rooms above the pub.

 

Newt came into his room with a bang of the door. He grabs some notebooks from his suitcase to add to those on the desk. He is riffling through his papers when a knock on the door rings out in his room.

“Newt, may I come in?”

Newt gasps at the request.

“Pro…Albus.” He says, barely audible through the door.

“Please let me in. Can I come in?” Albus pleads.

Newt takes a breath and a quick look about the room before saying “Come in.”

“Newt.” Says Albus as closes the door behind him.

“I….umm…I thought you’d like to take a look at these.” Newt walks toward Albus, handing out a bundle of pages. His eyes barely leave said pages, avoiding almost all of Albus but his shoes.

“Dear Newt.” Albus says with a sigh.

Albus takes the pages, only to glance on them before laying them down on the desk again.

“Professor.”

Albus makes his way back to Newt, cupping the younger man’s face.

“I’ve missed you, old friend.” He says, scanning Newt’s face for a response, and only finding a longing there that reflects his own.

Albus pulls Newt in for a kiss and the younger man practically melt in his arms with a sigh.

Albus shakes of his coat and from then on it all became something of a haze. They shed their layers slowly. Somehow, they find themselves on the bed without parting from each other’s touch. 

At some point, Newt was kneeling naked before Albus and they held each other close, bare chest against clothed. Newt savored the feel of the fine cotton shirt against his skin, reminding him of the many occasions he wanted to touch them in his youth. He felt it against his cheek where he laid his head against Albus’ chest to hear his heartbeat; on his fingers where he held onto them at Albus’ back.

Albus laid him down on his back before he too shed his last layers. Their eyes never straying from each other in the eternity of the seconds that they didn’t touch. And then Albus began to devour him, his neck, his chest, his hips, with his mouth and his tongue.

Newt remembers his face going hot but he can only imagine how red he really looked. He couldn’t really say if it was due to the exertion, the sensation of being filled or the self-consciousness from the whining, and punched-out noises he never expected to produce so loudly.

 

Newt opened his eyes not knowing how long they were closed for. He knew he had his back turned away from his new lover but felt no weight on the bed behind him.

“Professor?” Newt asks cautiously.

“Over here.” The man behind him replies.

He sighs in relief. Albus hadn’t left him. But then he gasps faintly when he sits up on the bed and turns to face the man. He is lounging on the seat by the desk, wearing his undershirt and trousers, the button on his trousers not even fully done up. His bare feet resting on the edge of the bed, one crossed over the other.

“Something the matter?” Albus asks with a smirk, seeing Newts cheeks go pink.

Newt clears the lump in his through before admitting “I’ve never seen you in this little clothing before.”

Albus raises a brow.

“You’ve just seen me naked, Newt.”

Newt snickers quietly at himself.

“I know but this is different. You look so casual and relaxed…like you belong here.”

“In an inn?” Albus asks teasingly.

“You know what I mean.” Newt says with a laugh, a whine sneaking into his tone. “What are you…?

“Looking over those notes you’ve set aside for me. Very impressive, I must say. Though also a bit disconcerting.” Says Albus

“Why?” Newt asks with a frown.

“Have you ever looked into any protective gear for your little expeditions?”

“Well…I have an old Quidditch helmet.” Newt supplies shyly.

“So, that’s a no then. You should take better care of yourself.”

“Could probably use a companion too.” Newt says suggestively.

“I did say.” Albus says, reminding Newt of his comment from before.

Newt then ventures to clarify what he meant with a hopeful smile. “You could come with me.”

Albus is struck mute for a moment before he produces some muddled response.

“I…Newt…”

“If you’re so impressed by my work and so concerned for my safety, why don’t you just come with me? What’s keeping you here?” Newt challenges Albus, knowing the older man already intends to refuse him.

 “My life. Responsibilities.” Albus replies with a scoff, trying to maintain some lightness to the conversation with a wavering smile.

Newt musters up more of his courage and prods at Albus further.

“To whom? You have no close family. No connections. Teaching can only satisfy you so much.”

“There are people who rely on me. I’ve got classes, Newt.” Albus insists.

It’s Newts turn to scoff.

“Classes. Right. Your penance you mean.”

“Newt!” Albus exclaims, shocked by Newt’s comment.

Newt turns away, rises from the bed and gathers his clothes.

“What? Isn’t it? The brightest mind of his generation. The upstart in the field of transfigurations. The young rebel of academia…teaching teenagers, marking mediocre papers, planning faculty meetings…” Says Newt as he pull up and fastens his trousers.

“Not everyone’s afraid of desks, Newton. Not everyone’s as keen as you are on adventure.” Says Albus with a frown.

Newt paces, avoiding eyes.

“And you’re obviously one of those people? Albus Dumbledore. Like you can ever resist stirring the pot.”

“You’ve certainly changed.” Albus sets aside Newt’s notes and stands feeling he must.

 “What? Because I’m not as meek and quiet as I used to be?” Newt faces Albus, trying to maintain eye contact despite his discomfort. “Don’t worry. I still am. Just figured there’s no need to be shy now. Is there, old friend?” Newt points at himself and Albus as if they were visual materials to support his argument.

He needs no courage now to speak. His frustration pushes the words out of him.

“Why did you even come to my room?” Newt asks.

“I did say I missed you. And as I expected you’ve grown into something remarkable. Beautiful.” Albus walks towards him, but restrains himself from reaching to touch.

“But you’re not staying, are you?”

Newt’s frustration pushes out tears as well as words, the glistening drops lingering at the rim of his eyes.

“You’re not staying either.” Says Albus.

“That’s not what I mean! I can come back. You…You’re barely here now. You’re half way out the door.”

Albus turns away shaking his head.

“I can’t just drop everything and run away with you, Newt.”

“You don’t have to. But you’re not even considering it. I can see it in your eyes. You’re not saying no to leaving, you’re saying no to this. So, why did you come to my room when you clearly have no intention of trying this?

Albus returns to him with urgency, his eyes intense and his hand on Newt’s cheek.

“Because I want to try this...but…”

“But something’s stopping you? Is there a name for this invisible something?” asks Newt with venom in his voice, shrugging Albus’ hand off.

“Newt, please. You know why I can’t.”

“Do you even know? Because I do. It’s because of him. Your old friend. Your former love. Your Bosie. He’s the reason you hide yourself away…or try to, anyway.”

“He’s not the only reason.”

“I heard about him. What he’s done. The disgusting things he says. Please tell me you’re not setting me aside, hoping he’ll come back to you.” Newt’s tone of voice turns defeated.

“No! I’d never…He’s hurt me just like everyone else. All those things he says…I was young and stupid; and I fell for all his grand designs. But that’s not me anymore.” Albus insists.

“Then it is penance. You’re punishing yourself for the things he’s done; things a younger, naïve you had done. It’s in the past. Why can’t you start again with me?”

“Because it’s not penance.” Albus suddenly feels exhausted, and sits down slouched on the edge of bed. “Because I know better and despite that, he still has a hold on me. I would not go back to him. But if he comes looking, I’ll either join him or kill him. And I’m not sure if I can live with either.”

“I’ll protect you.” Newt stands before him and cradles Albus’ head at his stomach.

“There are worthier things to protect. Your work. Your family, despite their disapproval. And you might meet someone…”

“Stop.” Newt steps back. “You’ve said this before, you know. Not in so many words but you have. I’m confused, right? Maybe I’ll find I prefer men or maybe I prefer women. But someone else will come along. And you’re not worth the effort, right? Well professor, statistically, I probably will meet someone else. But it’s been years and right now, in this moment, I still want you. So, why don’t you just say it clearly? That I’m not worth the effort.”

“Please don’t say that. That’s the last thing I want you to feel.” Albus reaches out to him but Newt just backs away further.

“You know what’s not worth the effort? Arguing the same point over and over again with you.  You come to my room and give me hope. That maybe you’ll give this a chance. Maybe enough time has passed. Maybe you’ll take me seriously this time. But in truth you just wanted a taste.”

“I want more than just a taste, I want all of you.” Albus stands and moves towards Newt. “But I can’t give all of me in return. I'm incomplete.”

“You’re the most complete person I know. I want all of you too, but I don’t need all of you. Just whatever it is you’re willing to give. But I need it to be more than this.”

It feels like an ultimatum. It sounds like one too. All or nothing. But Albus can’t muster a better answer.

“I’ve got classes.”

Newt shed’s a tear and suddenly Albus wants to take his answer back. But Newt will not have it.

“Then get the hell out?”

“I’m not leaving you like this?” says Albus.

“Like what? Mad at you? Don’t worry, it won’t last long. Because what you don’t understand, professor, is that I’m on the same boat as you. He’s got a hold on you. You’ve got a hold on me. You’ve saddled me with the same brand of misery you’ve got. The quiet kind. The kind that lingers beneath the happiness. The kind that haunts the quiet, unoccupied moments. Maybe I will meet someone else, but there you’ll still be. I just hope I haunt you too.”

“You do.”

“Thank you for the notes, professor. Your insight has always been invaluable.”

 

Three days before Newt is to depart from London, he receives an owl.

_“I’ve received news of a displaced Thunderbird in Egypt. You might want to look into it”_

Simply signed with

_“Love,_

_A.D.”_

Three days later, Newt looks out from the ship’s port side, whispering to the wind as the pier shrinks in the distance.

“Until the next heartbreak, Albus.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and please comment.


End file.
